The Pit
by Exp232
Summary: Sam always loved his brother. But not until recently did he discover to what ends that love would need to go. This is the story of how the two came to terms with themselves and learned to be human with each other. AU, Hurt!Dean and a little Comfort!Sam, but not exactly. R&R!
1. Chapter I, The Incident

**The Pit, Chapter One, The Incident**

Sam always loved his brother. But not until recently did he discover to what ends that love would need to go. This is the story of how the two came to terms with themselves and learned to be human with each other.

Contains some Wincest, but maybe more in the future?

Wrote this while listening to RENT…. Interesting mix….

I don't own anything, by the way.

* * *

It'd been a rough day. Dean walked in the front door and made a beeline for the fridge, grabbing the first of many beers he was going to drink.

Sam, never approving of his brother's timely and binge-like drinking habits, scoffed as he saw Dean chug half the contents of the bottle in four gulps. He went into the bathroom and started washing off the vampire blood from his face and arms, wondering at the dark red streaks swirl in the bowl and then disappear down the drain.

As Sam finished, Dean was already on his third bottle, and watching porn with a southern valley girl in it on the motel TV. Dean never showed any more sublimity when it came to porn, especially when he was drunk. And Dean was almost there, which was concerning, considering the effects of alcohol had began losing their potency after such abuse.

After unpacking his necessary supplies for the night, Sam made some soup for dinner and went back into his room to do some research on his laptop. Another silent night with Dean.

Ever since his resurrection from Hell, Dean had been on the fritz; reclusive, distant, forlorn, but most of all, drunk. Of course, drinking had been a large part of their lives ever since Mom had died, but the sheer volume of Dean's nightly sprees was concerning. He knew he'd never be able to understand Dean's ordeal in the pits of Lucifer's Domain.

An hour later, Dean finally went to go clean up after the messy night, Sam watched him stumble past the bedroom door on the way to the shower. He missed his brother. He was dead inside when he was taken, but now that he was back, Sam wasn't sure if Dean was ready to cope with hunting so soon again, let alone simple everyday life. At least he learned that today's hunting was a mistake.

Sam looked at a newspaper article from a town called Frontsworth. Apparently, there were children disappearing in the area. Then another article from Apple, where there were strange noises coming from the sewer system, along with a recent death of the manager of the waste plant that services the town. God, there must've been thirty articles that could use some attention on their part. Sam was just so tired. He didn't know where to start. This was the hardest part for him: triage, deciding who needs the most help and how fast they need it. Just as he decided to talk to Dean about the missing children, Sam heard a loud thump come from the bathroom.

Sam shouted, "Dean, you alright?"

No reply.

"Dean?"

Still nothing.

Sam got out of bed, stalking through the door of the bedroom and around the corner to find the bathroom door closed, but unlocked.

Sam cracked the door open and peeked inside.

"Dean, you good in—"

Sam looked at the floor to see his brother's leg lying still on the floor.

Sam burst into the room, squeaking out Dean's name as he did. Sam found Dean laying across the floor, entirely naked, and sobbing like a scared little boy. Blatantly ignoring his brother's privacy, Sam crouched down next to his brother.

"Jesus, Dean! What in the Hell is—"

At the word 'Hell' Dean flinched, sobbing just a bit more than before.

"Dean what's wrong?" Sam asked, kneeling next to his brother. Dean looked up at him, tears streaming down his face, and a gash on his forehead.

Sam blanked for a second. It was not the first time he'd seen his brother cry, but this was the first time Sam saw the complete despair, the utter helplessness you see in a desperate, wild animal about to have its throat slit open. Sam saw a battle for life.

He didn't even realize the deep cut on Dean's forehead until he came out of his trance.

"Dean! Get up to the sink. I'll clean you up."

As Sam picked his brother up and dragged him the two steps it took to get to the bathroom sink, he heard Dean whimper unintelligible words, only catching a few here and there.

"Help…do…seeing…him…you."

Yet the next two words were perfectly clear under the weak voice of this broken Dean.

"I'm sorry."

"Dean, you've got nothing to be sorry about. Here, get closer." Sam was trying to blot Dean's cut with Hydrogen Peroxide, but he kept pulling away from the stinging pain. After cleaning it to satisfaction, he pulled out a vial of Liquid-Aid. After a few minutes of silence, Sam continued.

"Dean, I'm the one who should be sorry. I haven't been there like I should have for you, after what happened. I just don't know what to do. You need to talk to me so I can help you through this."

"I kn-know," Dean said. He was starting to recover from his crying spasms, but his voice was still quivering.

"It's just…everytime I tr-ry to talk about it…i-YIT takes over me. I hate it so-YO much Sammy…."

"Dean, you're gonna have to come to terms with it soon. You can't keep livin' like this. Here, put on some clothes and we'll talk some more in the room."

Dean looked down, realizing he was still buck-naked.

"'Kay. I'll be there in just a second."

Sam walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and into the bedroom. He put away the laptop, realizing that the most important case right now was his brother. He needed to get to the bottom of Dean's torment and anguish. Otherwise, he was going to lose the brother he once knew; the one with the hardness of a rock and the steadfastness of a tree. The always rough-and-tough, but ambitious, goal-minded Dean.

Dean walked into the bedroom wearing only his boxers, and got under the comforter of his bed.

"So…" Sam didn't know where to start. He wanted so much to just delve into it, right then and there; but he knew his brother wasn't ready for that yet.

There was silence for a minute, and then Sam came up with a safe, but good question.

"So Dean, what can you tell me?"

"I can tell you that I really don't want to talk about it."

Well that backfired.

"That's not going to work Dean. You need the help. Either by me or some paranormal shrink, and I think you'd prefer me over the latter."

More silence.

"What happened when you first…well, got there?"

A pause, and then an answer, "I can barely remember the beginning. It feels like lifetimes ago, Sammy. All I really remember is pain. It's like...your entire body is being attacked every moment by everything that hurts, all at once. And there was no light, I couldn't see anything…. Anything at all. Just black."

"What's the first thing you remember?"

"I remember Alastair looking at my intestines. He loved to come by every day and do anything he wanted while I–I couldn't move."

Dean opened up. He knew what he had to say, otherwise his brother would just keep dogging him. Plus he knew he needed help, as little as he wanted to admit it.

Dean told Sam about all the things Alastair did to him, almost coming to tears with a few of the more gruesome things he did. Sam almost became sick. He couldn't imagine the things his brother went through more than once each day, each second.

Then came the brainwashing. Alastair loved taking hold of Dean's mind and twisting his thoughts, making him think unspeakable things. Things that pained Dean to the core, things that Dean still had trouble determining whether or not it really happened like that. Sam noticed Alastair chose things no one else would know about except Dean himself, making him useless in trying to straighten the few issues out. These were things that Sam would never be able to help with; these Dean had to deal with on his own. The last insecurity came as a surprise to Sam.

"…and then Alastair told me that you hated me…wanted me dead so you could be the one taking all the credit for everything…that you never loved me."

Sam loved his brother; he would die for Dean, a trait he tried to exploit, but backfired, ending in this broken little boy of a brother.

"Dean, you know that's not true. I love you. You're my brother. Why wouldn't I love you?"

"I know, I know. Alastair just got in my mind and showed me things. Things that I know now are not true. But I just hated him for saying it and me for believing it.

"You believed him?"

"I didn't have much choice. He had complete control of me. I couldn't do anything without his permission. If he wanted to, he could force me to hurt myself. He loved doing that…."

After that the conversation fizzled out. Sam looked out the window and recognized the utter darkness of the latest time of night, 3:00am. The clock behind Dean proved is assumptions, 3:07.

"I think we should get to bed. It's late. We'll talk more in the morning, alright?"

Dean nodded. Sam could make out the faint line of circles underneath his puffy eyes. Dean was tired, but he had to get this out there. He knew Dean would be better in the morning.

Sam got up to turn off the light, shivering as his skin hit the cold air of the room. He must've turned the heater off for some God-awful reason.

As Sam slid back under the warm covers in the dark room, he witnessed one of the most helpless moments of Dean's life.

"Do you love me, Sam?"

"Yes. I love you Dean. Good night."

"'Night."


	2. Chapter II, The Realization

**The Pit – Chapter Two: The Realization**

A/N: Hello! Here is my second chapter to The Pit! Thank you in advance for all the reviews that have yet to come! Did I mention this was my first solo fanfic? Hope you like it!

Again, I don't own anything. (Unfortunately).

* * *

"Morning!"  
"…Morning."

Dean walked into the kitchen, still in his boxers, to find Sam cooking up a storm—a full breakfast, complete with coffee and the daily newspaper on the table waiting for him. It must've been noon, since the sun was glaring right into Dean's face as he sat down to eat fried potatoes and ham, only worsening his already bad hangover.

"Sleep well?"

"Not bad, better than other nights. The beer helped." Dean was debating whether it was a good trade off though; a good night's sleep for this pulsating pain behind his eyes. He couldn't read right now, so he set the paper aside. He caught a glance at the clock: 9:23am. God, it was too early for moving.

Yes, it was that time again. Pack up and leave this God-forsaken town. After that grueling fight with those stupid vampires, Dean was glad to leave, but not with this sad excuse for a mind right now. After last night's escapades, he wasn't ready to drive. He couldn't trust himself.

"So, hey, listen. I'm not sure we're ready to get goin' yet, so why don't we take a little hiatus from the hunting right now?"

As if Sam read his mind.

Dean didn't like hearing the truth from his brother though, so obviously, he had to object.

"What! We can't stay!"

Sam gave Dean a look, are-you-an-idiot look.

"I'm fine. We really should leave soon."

"I'm not so sure. Let's give it a day, and then see where we're at tomorrow. Besides, I already paid the guy for an extra night."

Dean couldn't argue anymore, nor did he want to.

"One day Sammy! Then we're outta' here!"

Dean scooped the rest of the food and drink into his mouth and left for the shower. As he walked in the bathroom, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, making him do a double take.

He really did look like a train hit him. He had bags under his eyes, his hair looked like a giant cat had licked it into a sculpture, and his face was streaked with dirt and grime that his tear lines cleaned. He couldn't remember a time that he had cried harder. Dean knew that every person had a breaking point, but he refused to believe that he himself had one, and if he did then it must be extremely high. It'd better be if you're going to Hell and back without becoming a blubbering lunatic.

Dean stripped off his boxers and turned the water all the way to hot. As he waited for the warm, soothing water, he went back to the mirror. Dean had gained weight. Not too much to be obvious, but a baby beer gut was starting to form. His thighs had grown with some fat too. As he got into the hot water, Dean couldn't help but think about Sammy and his physique. Sam was the picture of perfection; strong, long hair, tan skin, tall, boyish face, everything Dean wasn't.

He couldn't help but be jealous sometimes, but he never let it get him down. Dean got more tail anyway.

Dean suddenly remembered a conversation, or should he say possession, he had with Alastair. It was a complete turnaround from the last 'conversation' he'd had, with 'Al' about Sam never caring about him, with all his antics and trouble he brought with him everywhere.

Next thing Dean knows, Al is talking to him about how Dean loves him in that way. With sex and everything. Then Al's showing him images of him and Sammy doing it. Dean knew how Al made him feel, good and sexed up and horny. Dean liked it. At the time.

He didn't know anymore. He didn't know if he loved his brother that way. Ever since Al perverted him, he could never be sure. But, if he were to go off on what happened last night, he would say he did, and by the half-hardness of his cock right now, he would say that was a positive indication too.

Dean did have a stint with a guy once before; in high school, to get back at his father for not taking him on a good hunt. But he'd never had sex with another guy before. The thought of it now was still the same, except with Sammy. He couldn't help but see his brother that way now that he remembered his time with Al. He couldn't hate himself for it, as it was now a part of him, but he also felt this need for Sammy that he'd only felt for girls before. And for some reason, that didn't scare him, or make him feel weird, because it felt right on some philosophical level. Sam had been the one who was there for him, time and time again. He was the one who got him out of everything. He was the reason Dean was even here on this planet. It only made sense.

Dean finished washing his hair for a second time and looked down to see his cock in full rigor. Curious, Dean started stroking his erection, thinking about those images Alastair gave him. Of him and Sammy having hot, steamy sex. Of his brother throttling his cock and Dean ramming his dick all the way down his brother's ass, Sammy screaming with pleasure. He found it exhilarating. It felt so right, so…perfect.

Dean hadn't jacked off in a while. The porn he watched just didn't get him going like it used to. It became nearly unattractive to him. But this. This is what Dean needed to get through this. He needed his brother. It was finally clear to him.

Dean continued jacking himself to his brother's naked image, of Sam's cock in Dean's mouth, sucking vigorously, of Sam coming in Dean's hole; he was getting closer and closer each second, until finally he let go and came all over the shower wall, whispering Sammy's name as he did so.

Dean cleaned up the shower, washed and rinsed the rest of his body, and turned off the water. Just as he stepped out, Dean realized the one thing that has always been his constant battle with the shower, and he had lost this time. He forgot a towel, again.

"Sam, can you grab me a towel?!" Dean yelled through the door.

"Yeah, hold on." He heard Sam yell back in a slightly tweaked quality. Sam had to get Dean a towel about 80 per cent of the time, and it would get tiring after a while. Sam looked at it as a girl would look at the toilet seat always being left up. That was his Sammy.

"It's outside the door," Sam said outside the door in a muffled tone. As Sam went back to being a busybody, Dean opened the door and grabbed the towel, dried off, wrapped it around his waist, and left the bathroom for their bedroom. Opening the dresser, Dean grabbed his favorite pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and button-up, and a pair of brand new socks from the plastic package.

If there was one thing Dean had an aversion to, it was wearing the same pair of socks twice. That pet peeve probably came along in gym class, when he could smell the two-week-old socks 50 feet away from some of the other football players. Eventually, athlete's foot was running rampant in junior year and Coach Greg had to cancel a game because of it. That got everybody's feet clean and they still won that year's championship, but the forfeit definitely didn't help their record. Ever since then, you could find slightly used socks in the trash wherever Dean was. It annoyed Sam, but Dean would never budge.

The more Dean thought about it, he liked the fact that he liked Sammy. It made him feel complete, reposed even. Like a great painting, finally finished after 29 long years of hard work and determination.

Dean had found his culmination.


	3. Chapter III, The Talk

The Pit, Chapter III, The Talk

Welcome to the third chapter of The Pit.I would humbly ask that you please fasten your seat belts and keep all hands, arms, and legs inside the internet at all times. Thank you.

Going pretty good so far…not bad at least…I hope. PLEASE TELL ME! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

The Wincest has been sparked, but fear not!

Many References:

I've found the PERFECT SONG for this story! I'll Cover You 'B', from RENT. (Thank you, Jonathan Larson!)

NCIS Reference included. (Thank you Mr. Bellisario, wish I owned it like you…)

I don't own I Love Lucy either…

I wish I owned Dean and Sam, but alas, I am no Eric Kripke…

* * *

Sam finished the dishes and went to the living area. Grabbing dad's journal, he started sweeping throughout its pages and inserts for any guide on how to recuperate a person back from the dead. After about five minutes of searching, he knew it was a lost cause. Sam had been over the journal hundreds, if not thousands of times, and there was no mention of coming back to life, unless you're talking about some creatures of which they hunt, and even then it was an interesting occurrence. Even this instance went above and beyond their own father's abilities. Dean was just a normal guy with a tormented mind, twisted and warped by Lucifer's own right hand man. He was one of the only true looks into a true resurrection, something that has not been seen since antiquity. In other words, Sam was truly alone in helping Dean cope with his own emotions.

Dean walked out of their bedroom, wearing his favorite pair of jeans, a black shirt, and, for the first time in what seemed like ages, his usual grin of contentment.

"I think I'll head out to the store… Oh, and we need more 'thirty-two' ammo."

"Uuhh, okay. That sounds fine, I guess. There's some money underneath my-"

"Yeah Sammy, I know where you hide the stash. I'll be back in an hour."

Dean walked to the door and opened it just a crack.

"Love ya' Sam."

"Love you too, Dean…."

Dean walked out and closed the door behind him. Sam heard the twist of the deadbolt as he locked the door. And then a minute later, the sound of the Impala starting and revving out onto the main drag.

_He's never done that before. What does he think… that we're a couple or something?_ That made Sam chuckle out loud. But still, it was weird for Dean to tell Sam that he loved him. Now Dean was wishing him well when he left to go shopping? How… cliché; Sam felt like he was in some weird parody of _I Love Lucy. _

Sam turned on the TV. He might as well relax in the calm before the storm; turn off before he had to be on constant watch. He started watching some show about some federal agents investigating the death of a naval general. It wasn't a bad show, but Sam could tell that this was a long series, considering that there were some inferences he didn't understand. It seemed as though one of the agents was new to the US, considering she kept marring some common phrases. Sam liked it though. One of them reminded him of the old Dean, with his cocky, but laid back attitude. It gave him a basis of where to start appealing to in Dean. Maybe he should start another prank war? It'd be easy with Dean gone. Just put some rubber rats in his bed and food and the shower and the impala when he wasn't looking. That would get Dean going again, right?

Sam decided against it. For all he knew, Alastair merged the fear of Hell into rats. Dean could melt into a bowl of jelly if he wasn't careful. He just had to go about this the conventional way; see what Dean needed the most, and then go from there. If Sam could identify Dean's worst fear and his chief complaint at the same time, then he's won half the battle. The trouble is coaxing it out of Dean. He's never been the open type, and Hell just made things worse… much worse. What could Sam do to crack Dean open?

Was it going to take a full on intervention… of sorts? Most likely. He needed to go in hard and fast. Blitz Dean into telling him what was wrong. If he were to drag it out, Dean would only get irritated and shut himself out. No, it had to be fast. Sam still at the same time, needed to be careful, as though Dean was a bomb that had two minutes left on the clock, but any wrong move and it (he) would explode.

So many variables.

An hour went by and Sam heard the Impala pull into the parking spot outside their door. Soon, Sam was helping his brother bring in eggs, beer, and twenty boxes of high grade .32mm ammunition, along with another box of empty virgin casings and tins full of gun powder. That meant both of them would be staying up late making salt rounds, since those were not exactly available on the open market.

Sam thought that would be a good time for the blitz. They'd both be sitting together with nothing else to talk about, so it seemed like a good idea.

"So, I think we should talk. I haven't told you everything yet, and I think there are some things you should know."

Damn it, Dean; always jumping the gun. Sam hadn't prepared himself completely for this yet.

"Okay. What's going on?"

Dean stopped opening the cartons of bullets and looked straight at Sam. He knew it was about to get very serious, fast.

"Can we go talk in the bedroom?"

"Um, sure."

All the perishables were put away, so they both filed into the bedroom and took the same positions as last night; Dean on his bed and Sam on his.

"I remembered one of the... times I had with Al. This one I think you should know about."

"Okay, what did he do in this one?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain…"

"You're the one who brought it up, Dean; so tell me what's goin' on."

Dean decided to start the conversation showing Sam he had promise of getting out of this, which was true if Sam accepted.

"Al showed me a way to get out of this… uummm, low spot; I guess if that's what you would want call it."

"Okay?"

Well, I…." Dean sighed in frustration. Why didn't he pay more attention in English? He couldn't find the right words to say what he felt without scaring Sammy away.

"Al showed me that I love you. I want to be with you, Sam, I want you to be mine."

Sam smirked and started to speak, but Dean cut him off.

"And, no, this isn't a joke. Look Al told me…."

Dean explained the entire experience to Sam, cleaning it up a bit so Sam wouldn't be too repulsed. Dean could tell his brother was… surprised… but at least he wasn't running out of the room, screaming at the top of his lungs his brother was gay. Which he wasn't, by the way.

After Dean's Spiel, Sam didn't know what to think or say…. It all seemed so, wrong… but at the same time, so right. His brother needed him. He needed the companionship. Dean wanted someone to get through this with, and if Dean wanted Sam by his side, then so be it. Sam didn't care if this was forced upon Dean, or even if this was Dean's twisted thoughts, crammed forcefully into his head because of Al. He loved his brother enough, so did Sam really have a choice? If he didn't follow through, it'd probably break Dean to pieces, and then blow up the bits into a molecular soup of Deanonium.

"Okay." Sam said blankly.

"You're okay with it?"

Dean wasn't expecting his brother to go through with it.

"You do realize what this means, right? That we're together… a couple, right?

"I get it."

"Okay."

Was there anything else to say? Any other questions Sam should be asking? He couldn't think of any. This was definitely something he was not prepared for, but then again prepared to do. He was willing to go this far with Dean, for Dean.

"So, what now?"

"I have no clue."

A minute of silence. Dean wasn't sure what he should do or how far he should go. What did he want to do?

Dean got out of bed, turned off the light, and came over to Sam's side of the room.

"Can I sleep here, then?"

Wow, Dean wanted to sleep with him? Sure, they'd done it before, but only when they had no choice. It was going to be crowded, considering the bed was just a Full, but Dean needed him, the closeness, the warmth.

Sam was able to squeak out, "Yeah."

So, Sam moved over to the extreme edge and let his brother squeeze in with him. Why did Sam suddenly feel like the big brother; letting his other half feel the security of someone so close?

He couldn't put his finger on it, nor did he have time, because right after Dean got into bed, he said, "Good night Sammy. I love you."

"I love you too Dean."

* * *

Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be up before you know it! Remember to please REVIEW!

Still looking for a Beta, by the way...


	4. Chapter IV, The Competition

The Pit, Chapter IV, The Competition

Hello all! Hope you liked the last chapter. Here's Chapter 4 of The Pit. Remember to please tell me what you think.

This story is a little lighter than the others. I felt it was getting a little to dark to early. Trust me, though, when I say that it will get plenty serious very soon. Crack!Fic

Great song for the beginning of this chapter; You Are the New Day, by the King's Singers. I learned that one in choir. It's perfect!

As I have said before, I do not own Supernatural. (Although I have a friend who owns all of the seasons on DVD….)

* * *

Dean opened his eyes to find the glow of midmorning. For once, he had risen before Sam, which was a rare occurrence. Last night was the best night of sleep since his time in Hell, and rightfully so, considering his close proximity to the one he now knew he truly loved and the absence of alcohol inn his system

Getting out of bed ever so softly, Dean padded to the bedroom door and made his way to the bathroom. After doing his business, he went to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself and Sam. Dean was not the best cook, but he had bought some toaster waffles and eggs yesterday, so he made breakfast, including coffee, for himself and his brother.

Just as he was putting the food on the plate, Sam walked into the room.

"Mornin', sunshine."

"Morning. What's all this?" Sam never really liked eating right after he woke up, but he was still surprised at Dean making breakfast.

"What does it look like? I made breakfast. Come on, hurry up and eat. We gotta get movin' soon."

Then it all came back to Sam. Today was moving day. As much as he wanted to put it off again, he couldn't. He promised Dean they would leave today. They didn't even know where they were going yet; plus, they hadn't even finished the blasted salt rounds from last night, and it was already 10:00.

"What about our ammo?"

"I'll have to finish it all while you pack and check us out."

"Dean, we've still got over a hundred rounds to do."

"I'm pretty fast. I thonk I couwld dow at." The last sentence Sam didn't quite catch, since Dean had waffle crammed in his mouth. Sam waited for him to swallow, and then take a large dreg from his mug.

"How about we do this. We'll make it a race. The first one to finish sleeps in the car while the other one drives through the night, plus the next day."

"Dean, that doesn't exactly sound safe."

"Awww, come on Sam! It's not like we haven't done it before. You'll probably win anyway."

Dean was probably right. It would only take him about 10 minutes to pack their meager amount of belongings into the Impala, and check out should be a breeze. Maybe five minutes? So 20 minutes tops for everything? Then there's Dean with about a hundred bullets left to pack, fill, cap, and store. With about a minute to make one good bullet, Sam had this in the bag; not to mention he was not looking forward to his night shift at the wheel.

"Alright, you're on. But, that means all the bullets have to be in usable shape, and packed where they belong, along with our stuff. That goes for me too. Alright?"

You do the dishes too, ready set go!" Dean jumped away from the table, almost knocking over his chair, and went straight to work on the bullets. Sammy didn't even have enough time to object to the last task Dean added. It was fair enough, though, considering Dean needed all the time he could get, and he cooked breakfast. So Sam got up, cleared the little table and got to work on the dishes.

By the time he was done, Sam turned around to find Dean more than a fourth done with the bullets. How in the hell was that possible?!

"Dean! What in the-"

Then Sam saw what he was doing. Dean had a little system going where he was working on more than one bullet at a time. He would pack three bullets with gun powder, while he filled another three with salt, using a little filler jerried from a couple oil funnels, and while he waited for them to finish, he would cap another three. It was all timed perfectly. Dean must've planned the whole thing out, hiding the contraption out of Sam's sight. Of course, Dean had that stupid little smirk when he realized that Sam knew what he had done.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam ran to the bedroom and threw the duffle bags on the bed. He then went to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulled out all the clothes from the drawers, tossing them on top of the duffle bags. Stuffing all the sweats and jeans into the canvas bags, Sam realized he forgot the closet. He went over to the other side of the room and opened the sliding doors to the small cabinet. He grabbed all the clothes and stuck them right on the end board of the closest bed. Going back to cramming Jeans and boxers, Sam finished the contents of the dresser and started stuffing shirts and jacket into the rapidly filling bags.

Dean! Of course he had to outclass his brother! Why didn't this not surprise Sam?

After five more minutes of battling with the stubborn clothes, Sam ran out of the room with the duffel bags on his back. Opening the door and getting to the car, Sam went to the trunk. After jiggling the handle, Sam remembered he locked it. Running back inside to grab the keys, he found Dean on the couch with the keys to the Impala in his hand. Dean had beaten Sam in an embarrassing loss.

"Damn it, Dean."

"What? You never said no tools." Dean's smirk and jokes were back. Hooray for that, right?

"Well, yeah, but…." Sam didn't know what to say. Dean was right. He never said no tools1. He couldn't believe it. This would've been an easy win for Sam if Dean hadn't had that stupid little tool.

"Where'd you get that thing?"

"I made it this morning when I went out to put he rest of the finished ammo away."

While Dean was waiting for the toaster oven to heat up, Dean took the rest of the bullets out to the car, finding the funnels and wire lining in the process. Dean's inventive mind and capable hands took over from there.

Sam sighed. He knew it was going to be a long night. Might as well stock up on sleep while Dean drives today. Switch off was at dinner, so….

Wait. Where were they even driving to?

"Do you even have a clue where we're going?"

"Nope! And I never wanted that idea from the start! I think it's time for us to do a free drive! Just me, my tunes, and my man!"

Sam blanched for a moment at the phrase 'my man', but quickly recovered. He was starting to like the fact that Dean was depending on him. It was a change for the better, in his mind.

"Sounds fine to me; but one question. East or West?"

"North. I think it's time get out of the States for awhile and go see Canada."

Canada? Sam had never been out of the country before, but why bar himself now? He knew Dean to be patriotic, and one that didn't particularly like the idea of leaving, but this change in attitude was definitely better. Dean wanted to step outside his comfort zone, even if it was as big as the US of A.

"Okay! No objections here." Sam actually found himself liking the idea more and more every minute.

As Dean opened the driver door to his beloved, slick black Impala, he asked Sam a question as he came back from checking them out at the Motel Office:

"Hey Sam, do you think it'll all work out?"

Sam thought for a couple seconds and gave his answer:

"I don't see how it couldn't. I mean, look at us, we're starting a whole new chapter, one that I can't wait to. And we can make it any way we want. We've given ourselves a clean slate, so let's make the best of it."

Dean started the engine. Coincidentally, The Eye of the Tiger started playing over the cassette player. How appropriate.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. New chapter; I like the sound of that."

Just a beat after Dean said the final word in the sentence, he leaned ever so slightly over to Sam and gave him the slightest peck on the cheek. One of he lightest kisses he ever gave. And drove off towards the main highway.

* * *

A/N:

1: I wonder how many of you actually went back up in the story and looked to see if he did or not. XD


	5. Chapter V, The Encounter

**The Pit, Chapter 5, The Encounter**

Time to get serious, it's time for Chapter 5 of The Pit.

I apologize for the extreme tardiness of this story. There were multiple factors that played into how late it is, including the fact that it's the holiday season

I now have a new Beta! Thank you iceyard, for stepping up to the plate and tackling this monster of a challenge. I know our readers will appreciate the new found quality.

I know it's a little weird, but a good musical match to this chapter may include "Alleluia" by Eric Whitacre. I think it matches the divinity I wanted to have portrayed in this chapter. Feel free to listen to it; the best version I can find is on Spotify.

PLEASE REVIEW!

WARNING: Graphic sexual content containing WINCEST. Don't like, don't read!

Why must they force me every time to say that I do NOT own this awesome production? It verges on Cruel and Unusual Punishment.

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the Dragon Motel. Shutting off the engine in front of the office door, Sam looked to Dean in confusion.

"I thought we were driving all night?"

"Ah, not much use in that. We're just freestylin' it, anyway. What's the use of being tired?" Dean opened the car door and stepped out of the car.

Watching Dean saunter into the office, Sam was amazed at his brother's sudden change of heart. Hadn't he lost the bet? He was supposed to drive through the night and into the next morning. As Sam thought about what just happened, he couldn't help but accept Dean's actions. He didn't want to drive that much, not to mention the exhaustion that would follow. Dean was probably planning something, could it be worse than pulling an all-nighter? Sam didn't think so.

Dean walked back out of the office with an apartment key in hand.

"Looks like we're in room four."

A few minutes later, Dean and Sam were taking clothes and food into the room, along with a few other items, namely the laptop and toiletries. After that was finished, Sam set to work on a quick dinner of ham-and-cheese sandwiches with potato salad.

"You're welcome, by the way." Dean walked up behind Sam working at the counter, and wrapped his arms around his brother's waist. Sam tensed up at the contact, momentarily paralyzed by what was happening.

"Th-thank you." Sam then remembered that he and Dean were together, and that this touch was allowed between, well, boyfriends.

"I'm still wondering if we're gonna get any sleep tonight." Dean placed his head on Sam's shoulder.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"Oh, come on Sammy. Do I have to spell everything out for you?" Dean moved closer to Sam's face, lips making the slightest contact. Dean could barely hold himself back. He wanted this desperately.

Dean thought back to last night's memory of sleeping together. It seemed innocent, but Dean knew he needed more. Now was his chance. Maybe his only one.

He decided to go for it. He pushed into Sam's lips even harder, a needy whimper escaping his lips as he did. He knew Sam was surprised, but Dean didn't care. He needed this, needed the proximity. Dean slid his tongue past Sam's lips, finally able to explore the unknown place that he had wanted to feel for what felt like centuries.

Sam didn't know what to do. He could feel Dean's tongue mapping out the recesses of his mouth. He let it search there, but should Sam do anything to it, or just stay as he was? Sam soon became lost, as the notion of kissing escaped his grasp and left him with his former 12-year-old self. Stumbling blindly through his mind, Sam remembered, he wanted Dean to get better, and if this was the way Dean wanted to do it, then so be it.

Sam felt a little fire kindle inside of him, and after a few short seconds of apprehension, he let go of his worries and worldly restraints. Sam let go.

He kissed Dean back, opening his mouth even wider and sliding his tongue into his brother's mouth. Moaning on contact, Dean let out a little sigh of relief, knowing that his brother might feel the same pull towards him as he did to Sam; that itself made him want to go even further. If Sam could accept this, he could accept sex, right?

Dean pulled his brother to the bedroom, still interlocked at the mouth. Dean went in back first, reaching out to turn on the light. As he flipped on the switch on, Sam found that Dean had a single Queen-size mattress.

He had been planning this all along. Somehow, that didn't change Sam's outlook. He was okay with that. His brother needed him, and if it was in this way, then who was he to deny his brother what he wanted when he was in the darkest place man has ever known, and survived?

Dean let Sam fall underneath him onto the bed. Still tongue tied at the mouth, Dean started feeling his arms, and the hard muscles that dwelled there. He touched Sam's chest, and felt his heartbeat, steady and fast. His back tensed with the restraint of keeping himself under control as he stroked Sam's thigh, feeling the pure power of his brother, his protector, his everything.

He gasped when Sam started touching him, running his hands up and down his own back. He made a point to flex his lean body every time Sam moved his hands. Soon, Sam was exploring other areas, his shoulders, hair, chest, stomach. Dean was the one to take it a step further.

Grasping the edge of Sam's shirt and pulling upward, he watched as his auburn skin and beautiful physique became visible to his own eye. Dean trailed kisses down to Sam's neck as Sam's hands continued to roam the contours of Dean's chest and gripped his thighs tightly. Too tightly.

Their mouths locked again, only now Dean was caressing Sam's flesh, making goose bumps rise. Dean's hand brushed over Sam's nipples and started to play with them, rubbing and pinching them ever so slightly. Sam tensed at the touch. It felt so good.

Dean's shirt was suddenly pulled away, leaving Dean exposed under the dim lighting. His tan was amazing, not bronze like Sam, instead a seductive light brown.

As Dean moved his hands from Sam's chest and went to his stomach, he felt the hard knobs of Sam's abdomen. Going farther, he unbuttoned Sam's jeans, brushing his hands towards the back.

Realizing what was about to happen, Sam unbuckled Dean's belt and was fumbling with the button on his jeans when he felt a pair of hands reach under his pants, squeezing and caressing his ass. God, it felt good.

Immediately after unbuckling Dean's pants, he pulled them off, revealing blue boxers. He threw the pants in a frenzied fashion on the floor; Sam looked over and saw Dean's massive hard-on, bulging under his little-remaining clothing.

That made him call time-out. Not literally, but he did freeze up for a second. His brother was into him. Really into him. That never really seemed to click in Sam's mind until now. They were doing this. They were together. Reality had set in. This was happening, happening now. Sam couldn't help but think about whether or not he was ready to do this. He had done this before, but never with a guy, not to mention his own brother.

"You okay?" Dean muttered through a deep kiss, noticing his brother's sudden change in demeanor.

"…Yeah." Sam got back into it. He loved his brother, enough to help him, and if anything was going to help Dean, it'd be being close to him. He could trust himself with his brother's emotions; at least more than Dean's next female (or male) score. They didn't know how to help Dean, and he did, so why not? Let it happen.

Sam, empowered with this new thought, slammed into his brother, locking their mouths together and pushing his tongue deep into his mouth. Dean moaned softly.

Hands roaming down to Dean's mountain, Sam paused near Dean's belly button.

"Is it okay if I—"

Dean grabbed Sam's hands and brought them to his cock, caressing it ever so slightly at the apex. Dean whimpered, involuntarily bucking into the touch.  
Sam was a little surprised at Dean's reaction, but kept his hands on Dean's piece while his brother brought his back to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as he grasped his cock through the blue cloth. Dean moaned, louder and louder until Sam couldn't take it anymore.

Grabbing the elastic edges of the underwear and pulling down, Sam freed Dean's cock from its thin barrier. After dropping the boxers on the floor, Sam looked back and, for the first time, saw Dean's package in full vigor.

Just as Sam turned around, Dean yanked at his jeans, signaling for his desire to get Sam naked.

Helping him pull off the denim and cotton underneath, revealing Sam's massive cock.

Sam was longer with a bigger head, but Dean was thicker and had a pair of massive balls. Together, they both evened each other out. Immediately after getting Sam naked, Dean couldn't wait any longer. He bent down and licked his brother from base to head, and then took Sam's cock all the way to the back of his throat. Sam was enraptured, gasping and moaning in sudden ecstasy. His brother's mouth felt amazing. Dean rammed it all the way to the back of his gullet, gagging the first time, but quickly getting used to Sam inside of his moist throat.

Sam's hand ventured up to Dean, and grasping him by the head, helped guide Dean's strokes into his favorite rhythm.

Faster and faster, Sam was soon thrusting into his brother's mouth, groaning as he felt a fire burn in his stomach. He didn't want it to end. He had never felt this way before. It was hard to describe, but he knew that if Dean felt it, he would experience one of his greatest highs in a very long time.

Out of nowhere, Sam reached out for his brother's raging hard-on; stroking it in time with his brother.

Dean let out a groan. He repositioned himself so Sam would have a better angle while he continued sucking on this amazing dick. He couldn't get enough. Dean felt a hunger like never before, and Dean knew he couldn't deny it.

Sam's breathing turned to short gasps as Dean's tongue swirled around his head, the vibrations of Dean's throat resonating over his throbbing cock.

Sam moved again, this time giving away his true intentions almost immediately. He picked himself up and laid on top of Dean in the opposite direction, who was still vigorously devouring his brother. Sam began to stroke Dean very slowly, testing the waters before diving in.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly engulfed Dean's rock-hard cock, tasting a faint tinge of pre-cum at the tip.

"Aw, fuck Sammy!" Dean growled out from beneath Sam's groin.

Sam smiled a little, which is no small feat when he had a cock halfway down his throat. He liked talking dirty in bed.

Quickening the pace, Sam sucked on his brother, creating a new rhythm as he fucked Dean's face.

Soon, Sam knew he was very close. He could feel the fire growing into a raging inferno just below his belly button.

"Sammy. Now."

Sam stopped. Looking back at Dean, he asked quietly, "You sure?"

"Just do it Sam, please."

Sam wondered for a second if that would be going too far. It was their first time, even though it was only the second day, but when it felt that right, whom was he to stop from them going all the way?

Sam lifted himself off his brother, who grabbed a bottle of lube from the small end-dresser and squeezed some on his hand.

Sam kneeled on the bed while Dean, reaching for his brother's cock, began slathering it with the clear liquid.

"Are you ready for this?"

Dean looked quiet, composed. "Yeah. I'm ready."

Dean came closer to Sam, laying a gentle kiss on his lips, immediately pulling him closer.

Laying Dean on his back, Sam placed himself at Dean's entrance, slowly rubbing his slick cock against the tight hole.

Slowly pushing into his brother, Dean winced with pain and gasped in exasperation.

Stopping, Sam asked, "You okay?"

"I'll be fine. I knew this would be the hardest part."

Sam smiled and placed his lips on Dean's, giving him something to do while he started pushing again.

After Sam's entire head was inside of Dean, it got a little easier, but as he continued, Dean winced harder and harder, kissing Sam with more fervor.

Sam started to pull out slowly, hoping to relieve a little tension.

Without warning, Dean reached behind Sam and grabbed his ass, and pulled Sam into him with all of his strength.

"AH! GOD DAMN IT, SAMMY!"

Swallowing Sam's dick whole, Dean's ass tightened around his brother's shaft, making Sam even more rock hard. Sam had been with tight women before, but Dean's virgin ass was on a level of its own.

Resting for a minute to let Dean become accustomed to Sam inside of him, Sam began to move his hips slowly, thrusting in and out of Dean with increasing strength.

"Come on Sam. You can go a little faster than that."

Giving Dean a little smirk, Sam began to rock his hips with even more power, creating some decent friction for them both.

Dean began to relax, opening up more and more with each passing second.

Going to his favorite rhythm once more, Sam felt the fire start to intensify, as his thrusts went deeper and deeper into Dean's hole.

Staring into his brother's eyes, Sam could see the lust building up in Dean, as his fire grew ever more potent.

Sam shifted his body down, changing the angle of his expert plunges, and, completely by accident, found Dean's prostate.

Dean literally screamed, yelling unintelligible words as he arched his back to meet his pleasure head-on. A wave fell over him and he started to tremble and gasp for air.

Out of pure curiosity, Sam hit Dean's prostate with even more force, thrusting into it with seemingly perfect strokes.

Dean went completely silent. Arching his back even farther, Dean came on his chest and stomach, white-hot seed spraying his entire abdomen.

Sam let out a deep groan, feeling himself get close to meeting Dean's level of pure ecstasy.

Pounding into his brother, the wave began to rush over his body, breaking his resolve like a twig. Thought became impossible, as Sam gave Dean one more thrust and came with explosive force.

Sam wasn't sure what quite happened next, in the mass array of bright colors and blinding stars, but he eventually found himself laying on top of Dean, his still rock-hard cock throbbing next to Dean's.

Reaching down, Dean began to jack them both off together, which felt amazing after what they had both just experienced.

"Well, shit."

Dean smiled at Sam, his lips red and swollen from the epic face mashing.  
Sam lay back down, letting his brother finish milking the last remnants of both their climaxes.

Not long after, Sam fell asleep on top of his brother, and dreamt of his Dean all the night through.

* * *

Wow. I can't believe I just wrote that. After months, of tweaking and editing, it's finally done. I hope you enjoyed the fruits of our labor.

Special thanks to my awesome beta iceyard and her beautiful insight and personality, which, I must say, is a perfect match to mine.

And as always, I ask that you PLEASE REVIEW! It's very important for me to hear from my readers what they think! If you want this story to improve, you have to tell me! I can't read minds!

Watch out for Chapter Six! I promise you'll love it! Or your money back!


	6. Chapter VI, Breakfast

**The Pit, Chapter VI, Breakfast**

Hello, all! May I invite you to read Chapter VI of The Pit, a wonderfully balanced narrative of love, devotion, and that little voice in the back of your head saying "eat more pie"!

A very big thanks to my guest beta, Ola May, and to my regular beta, iceyard, who helped me in a great time of crisis! Please check Ola may's profile for some awesome stories, which I beta for!

PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!

This was created while listening to the album, My Head is an Animal by 'Of Monsters and Men'. I'd highly recommend you listen to it, as it portrays the sense of peace and calm you will find herein quite well.

I cannot claim to own Supernatural, and if I did, I'd probably be sued for everything I own. Wouldn't surprise me.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes to the sound of birds singing just outside of his window. Laying in the warm confines of his comforter, he elected to listen to the little finches, thrushes, and robins trilling in the cool morning sunlight.

He was soon able to single out a Western Meadowlark from the half-dozen birds calling  
from the thicket of Canadian maples surrounding the Ver' Courier Inn. Finding solace in the bird's melodic song, Sam found himself at ease as the notes brought him to a very special place in his heart—a place of simplicity and peace. As though, Sam had already been there for days on end, he found himself wandering through his consciousness, weaving a path of daydreams and abstractions.

Sam felt the comforter shift and pull as Dean changed position on the opposite side of the bed. Breaking from his meditations, Sam looked over to his brother, who had his back to him. Sighing heavily, Sam recalled the events from the past week.

Ever since their first night together, Dean had been revived, energized with a newfound  
purpose that grew stronger each day. Sam had witnessed a new side of Dean that  
he had never truly shown before. Dean was becoming gentler—composed even—which  
was a complete reversal from his actions since he had been resurrected. It was comforting, Dean had stopped the destructive, self-inflicted mental and physical abuse that had plagued his life for a very long time now. It was as though Dean had found a true respite from the grim and progressively debilitating events that spanned his memory. Sam found solace in the fact that he was the answer to Dean's struggles, the key to his true happiness.

At least, for the past week. Sam knew there was a very large possibility that Dean could  
go back to his old ways— return to his cynical and forlorn attitude. He knew he had done Dean a great service by supplying him with the ability to rest from the world, give him new spiritual light, something Dean would not have lasted without if things went unchecked.

Lying on his back, Sam traced the patterns on the pop-corned wall, his mind still wandering. He thought about Bobby, who had called them and made sure all was well. He knew that they were taking a hiatus, which he understood, and wanted to know if they were still in Canada, which they were.

Sam had to admit, it was a beautiful country, with the vast forests and quiet plains, with towns smaller than most of the places he had visited back home. Canada only added to the  
serenity and peace he and Dean now felt.

Dean shifted once more, pulling more blankets away from Sam. He was going to wake up  
soon. Sam sighed one last time, reveling at how truly relaxed he was.

Slowly creeping out of their bed, Sam slipped on a T-shirt and sweats, making his way  
toward the kitchen. He needed to start breakfast, he had plans to make this meal a big one.

Half an hour later, Dean dragged himself into the kitchen and found Sam hard at work on  
a breakfast feast: ham, sausage, hotcakes, eggs, potatoes, and bacon, all piping hot and ready to eat. Sam was just placing the table when Dean sat down to gaze upon the awesome sight before him.

"Morning. Glad you could make it to breakfast."

Dean chuckled, "I could smell the bacon a mile away. What brought this on, Sammy?"

Shrugging, Sam replied, "Eh, thought you would be hungry after last night's salt-and-burn."

"What, after that stupid case? I could've done that in my sleep."

"Well, the hike up to the cabin sure had you tuckered out by the end of the night. You fell asleep on the couch again."

"You can't blame me for that. The movie you picked was boring as Hell."

Sam looked up at his brother. Dean just said Hell, a word he could barely hear without flinching two weeks ago. It sounded normal on his tongue, as it should be, considering how much Dean swore all the time.

Sam took it as a sign of health. Dean was recovering—and faster than expected. It was encouraging, but a little alarming at the same time. Was it normal for Dean to gain back everything he had lost all at once? Was that normal?

"Sammy?"

"Hmm?"

Sammy looked up from his plate, realizing he must've spaced out.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Still waking up, I guess."

Dean frowned. The tightness of his mouth set alarms off in Dean's mind. Sam was thinking, and that thinking had to do with him.

"You sure Sammy? Everything's okay, right?"

Why does he always keep pushing?

"Never better, Dean. I just remembered: we needed more salt. We're running a little low from last night."

He hoped it would quell any more questions Dean had on the subject.

"Oh. Um…Okay, we'll pick some up on the way."

Dean looked up from his disappearing mound of food, taking another quick glance at his brother. He seemed relaxed enough, but his movements were tense, like he was under some sort of stress. Nothing major, but enough to effect his facial expressions, which were calm, yet strained.

Dean mumbled, as he swallowed a strip of bacon, "Speaking of which, do you know where we're headed next?"

"Oh! Yeah, I forgot…Here, let me show you something."

Getting up from the table, Sam half-ran into the bedroom, grabbing his laptop and Dad's journal.

Clearing a space on the table, Sam clicked on his saved files and brought up a few for Dean to see. Turning the screen towards his brother, Sam started explaining the case to him.

Halfway through the lecture, Dean started looking closer and closer into the screen, as if he was trying to see something he couldn't read.

Crack!

A flash of light burst through the room, blinding them. A shock wave knocked them both to the ground, oblivious to their surroundings. Deafening noise swept through the room, threatening to burst the brothers' eardrums.

An as soon as it had started, the cacophony ceased, leaving Sam and Dean bewildered on the floor of their hotel room. Then, from behind them, a voice rang out. Gruff and snippy.

"Sam. Dean."

Dean swung around to see a man in a brown trench-coat standing at the edge of the kitchen.

"Who the Hell are you!"

"I'm Castiel. Pack your bags. We need to move. Now."

* * *

Thanks for reading Chapter VI of The Pit! Come back soon to read Chapter VII!

PLEASE REVIEW!


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